


time

by skrsgards



Series: Merkel (Atomic Blonde) Works [1]
Category: Atomic Blonde
Genre: Angst, Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 08:58:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16678552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skrsgards/pseuds/skrsgards
Summary: in which time is his greatest enemy





	time

Something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong. 

He could feel it wrench in his gut, sending an awful wave of nausea rushing through him. His bright eyes flickered about, searching every face that rushed past, hoping one of them was yours. 

But they were all bleak, sullen faces. None of them were bright or jubilant like yours was. This only worsened his anxiety, his chest tightening painfully. He could not face the fact that something might’ve happened to you. And he most certainly couldn’t stomach the thought of you lying dead somewhere. No, he would not believe it. 

But then there was a glimmer of life, a flood of knee buckling relief, for his eyes had finally landed on the prize: you. 

Merkel stepped into the street, pushing past other human beings, sight never drifting away from you for a second. You were huddled next to a battered Lorraine, tucked into her side as the both of you meandered up the sidewalk. 

He reached you in no time, hand darting out to touch Lorraine’s shoulder. The woman jumped, whipping around to defend herself. “Hey, it’s me!” Merkel exclaimed, “it’s me.”

The woman breathed out a sigh of relief, though it pained her to do so. She felt as if she was breathing in broken glass shards. The weight at her side was too much, and she nearly lost her grip on you, until Merkel swooped in, taking ahold of you. 

You were in worse shape than Lorraine was, and Merkel was quick to notice the amount of blood that had seeped through your once white shirt. He cursed under his breath before he wrapped an arm around you, reaching back to grab Lorraine’s hand as he pulled you both out of the open, needing to get you to safety. 

You weren’t doing so hot, that was for certain. You’d gotten caught up in the crowd with Lorraine when Spyglass was shot, and you’d had no other choice but to run with her, knowing she needed help if they were going to get the man into the west. 

What followed was a fight for your lives, as well as the STASI operative’s. You were beaten, bruised, shot at, sworn at, thrown about like a rag doll. Despite sustaining a few painful injuries, one of which you were certain was a cracked rib, you were alive, and you were okay. So was Lorraine. 

But then, things took a turn for the worse. A stray bullet lodged itself in your side, which complicated everything. But the adrenaline rush dulled the pain somewhat, and by some miracle, you were able to narrowly escape with Lorraine and Spyglass. 

The mission was all in vain, however, for Spyglass ended up drowning when the car you’d commandeered was sent into the water. You and Lorraine barely made it out alive after that, managing to swim to the surface of the freezing water.

This brought you to the present moment, with you leaning against your lover’s side, hardly able to support yourself. The adrenaline was finally wearing off, and a searing, mind numbing pain was beginning to rush through you. Your knees were beginning to betray you, buckling beneath your weight. 

Without pause, Merkel swiftly lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way. He didn’t say a word, his jaw was hard set as he walked, willing his feet to carry him faster so he could assess your injuries and get you help. 

You were already coughing and sputtering, which surely wasn’t a good sign. But he did not let a single thought about you dying come into his mind. That was because you weren’t dying on him. He wouldn’t let you.

When safety was reached, he was careful to lay you across a gathering of cloth sacks that were strewn across the floor. He scurried about like a madman, retrieving blankets for both you and Lorraine. As soon as he could, he fell to his knees beside you, now fully taking in the extent of your injuries.

You looked up at him through glassy eyes, your entire body quaking from the intense cold. Merkel swallowed the painful knot in his throat. “My love…” he began, voice betraying him. He so gingerly pulled your beautiful, broken body into his arms, terrified of hurting you further. 

“I’ve got a doctor on his way,” he said, “he won’t ask questions, he’ll be discreet.”

You shook your head, though it pained you immensely to do so. “No,” you whispered. Merkel could see the blood glistening on your lips now, like some kind of awful lipstick. “A d-doctor isn’t nec-”

“Hush,” he cut you off, “a doctor is very much necessary. You need help.” His hands were now pressed firmly over your wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, to hold your life in. The sticky red seeped through his fingers. He felt like throwing up.

“R-remember th-the other night? Wh-when we talked about when our t-time to go would be? Well, it’s my time, darling.”

Merkel shook his head vigorously, tears now springing to his eyes. He wished you’d never had that dreaded conversation about dying. Damn the alcohol that loosened your tongues. 

“No,” he snarled, “I’m not losing you right now. It’s not your time.”

He was lying to himself, of course. But he could not bear this crushing weight. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The time was fleeting, slipping through his grasp. No time to go on those adventures you’d always talked about, no time to build your lives together. No time for him to hold you, to pour out his heart full of undying love and adoration to you. 

Oh no, time was his enemy in that moment. And it was going to win. 

You reached your hand to touch his. He whimpered at the icy cold feeling of your skin, his heart aching within his chest. “I have to let go,” were the next words out of your mouth. “It is my time.”

“Dammit!” He cried. “No, you’re staying right here with me. You’re strong, remember? You can beat this.”

You shook your head. “I can’t stay.” You were coughing again, blood staining your lips further. No, no, no. You had to stay. You’d helped shape him into everything he was at that moment. Who was he without you? He was but a hollow shell of a man. 

“Don’t…don’t make me live my life alone.” There was such anguish in his soft voice. He sounded like a broken hearted child. 

“You are strong, darling. You will get th-through this.”

No he wouldn’t. How could he ever? But here you were in his arms, life ebbing away from you, your breathing becoming slow and shallow, your body growing heavier as it began to succumb to its fate. 

Taking in a painful breath, Merkel leaned forward, eyes looking into your own. You offered him a tiny nod, and he felt his heart break. This was it, he could not hold on to you any longer. He had to say his goodbyes, otherwise he’d miss his chance. 

So, with hot, bitter tears burning their way down his cheeks, he ducked his head, lips meeting yours in a delicate kiss. The last he’d ever give you. A soft sob slipped past his lips and into your mouth. He was breaking. 

“I love you more than anything else on this earth, my love.” 

You nodded, unable to reply. You could only watch as the once steady man now fell apart above you, hands shaking as he slowly released your wound, knowing there was nothing more he could do. 

What followed next was something he never wanted to experience again. With one final cough, and one last breath, you let go. And in that moment, Merkel could feel it. He could feel the life drift out of you, your light, your spirit, leaving your body. 

The sound of death followed, and with you still held tightly in his arms, he lost himself. His head lowered, pressing against your chest as wretched, agonizing sobs left him. He could not save you, he was never meant to. He had to accept that, had to swallow it down like a mouthful of bitter medicine. His love was gone.

Indeed, time was not his friend that day. Nor had it ever been.


End file.
